


As you would for me (oh, I would share your load)

by Jadzia_Bear



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fluff, Kid Fic, M/M, Multi, Smut, in that order
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-14
Updated: 2015-02-14
Packaged: 2018-03-12 09:29:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,421
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3351656
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jadzia_Bear/pseuds/Jadzia_Bear
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Being mother to the children of two superheroes can have its cons, but boy is it worth it for the pros.</p>
            </blockquote>





	As you would for me (oh, I would share your load)

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Marvel Polyamory microbang. Title is from 'In The Light' by Led Zepplin.
> 
> You were never going to get a kidfic from me that didn't have a good dose of angst, but I gave it a happy ending. And by that I mean a smutty ending. Enjoy :)

Darcy sits on the grass with her cup of tea and watches as her three-year-old tears around the backyard in a yellow dress and purple gumboots. Kayla is singing Hakuna Matata at the top of her lungs, pausing every now and then to tug ripe cherry tomatoes off the vine and stuff them in her mouth. Darcy doesn’t even know where that vine came from, it just sprang up on its own one day a while back, slowly weaving its way ever more tightly around the fence palings.

The late afternoon breeze has a chill to it. Darcy really should take Kayla inside and get started on dinner, but she keeps putting it off. The baby is still asleep from his last nap of the day, and Darcy needs to wake him up if she wants to get him down for the night at an hour that’s anything close to reasonable, but she’s putting that off too, unwilling to face a teething baby again until the moment she absolutely has to.

The wind whips at Kayla’s shiny brown locks and she stops to push them away from her round little cheeks.

“Mama! A moth!” she cries, pointing at a butterfly.

“Mama, it’s a _moth!”_ she shouts again a few moments later, alerting Darcy to the fact that, although she’d been staring right at Kayla, she hadn’t actually responded. Darcy is so tired she could sleep for a year and it still wouldn’t be enough.

“Uh-huh,” Darcy says, because trying to correct her on the whole butterfly vs moth thing will only result in a tantrum Darcy is flat-out not prepared to deal with right now. That entomology lesson can wait until another day.  

She thinks she hears a cry from the house and her whole body stiffens as she waits for another, but it never comes. Maybe she imagined it; she thinks she might have been doing that a bit lately. She takes another sip of her tea and watches the grey clouds rolling in and obscuring the sunset.

The number of tomato seeds smeared across the front of Kayla’s dress seems to be growing by the minute, but Darcy doesn’t say anything, either because tomatoes are good for you or because she just can’t bring herself to give a shit, she’s not sure which.

It had seemed like such a good arrangement, having two fathers to help her with the children, and when Steve and Bucky are both home she knows she has things a lot better than plenty of other moms, but during times like this, when they’re both away on a mission together for days on end, she starts to feel like she’s drowning.

Tears of overwhelm spring into her eyes. She blinks them angrily away and checks her phone again. Still no text. The boys were getting better at remembering to keep her informed of when they would be home, but they still weren’t one hundred percent reliable.

She drops the cell onto the grass next to her, forcing down the urge to text them first. What would she even say? _‘Hey guys, I need you to stop saving the world and come home because apparently I’m too pathetic to face the thought of cooking dinner and bathing two children. Kiss-kiss-hug-hug.’_

Darcy sighs deeply, then drains the rest of her tea and puts her phone back in her pocket. The thought of going back inside to the mountain of mess and responsibilities is vaguely sickening, but she’s only delaying the inevitable.

“Okay kiddo, time to go inside,” Darcy says, pushing herself up off the ground.

“No!” screams her little banshee child, the pitch of it setting Darcy’s teeth on edge.

“If you come inside right now you can have a milk dud,” Darcy says, well aware that she’s breaking pretty much every single parenting rule there is.

And like that, the banshee evaporates and her sweet daughter returns.

“Okay,” Kayla says with a cheerful smile, trotting up the path to the house. Darcy falls in beside her and when they reach the back door Kayla looks up at her with big blue eyes. “Mama, can I please have a cuddle?”

“Of course, beautiful,” Darcy says, her heart melting as she’s reminded of just how intensely she loves these two amazing little creatures in her care. She picks Kayla up and hugs her close as the little girl wraps her arms tightly around Darcy’s neck and snuggles in.

For all of three seconds, then she’s wriggling her way out of Darcy’s arms and back to the floor. “Mama, can I have a milk dud now?” Kayla asks.

“Yup,” Darcy says, stepping into the kitchen and trying not to trip over the child under her feet.

“Mama, I want a milk dud _now,”_ Kayla says as Darcy adds her empty teacup to the teetering stack of dirty dishes next to the sink.

“Yeah, I’m _getting_ it,” Darcy says. She manages to hold back the _fucking hell_ on the tip of her tongue, but she can’t keep the irritation from creeping into her tone.

She reaches up to the top shelf of the cupboard...and remembers that they ran out of milk duds yesterday.

“I want a milk dud! I want a milk dud!” Kayla cries with increasing intensity as she clings to Darcy’s leg. Just then, baby Liam starts to wail from the other end of the house, and Darcy just stands there, retreating into herself for a few moments as she tries to find the strength to get through the next five minutes, let alone the rest of the night. She is seriously considering dropping both children off at Jane’s and moving to Switzerland, when the front door opens.

Kayla sucks in a breath and her eyes light up as she identifies the voices from the entryway. “Daddy and Dada!” She races off down the hall, and Darcy thinks she might just melt into a puddle of relief right there on the kitchen floor.

She sends a silent prayer of thanks to the giant spaghetti monster in the sky and follows her daughter down the hall, albeit at a much slower pace.

Steve and Bucky are sporting the usual scrapes and smatterings of dirt, but neither of them are suffering any obvious injuries, which is always a relief. Both men smile as soon as they see her, but Steve is the first to pull her close.

“Hey,” he murmurs in her ear, only just audible over the animated explanation Kayla is giving Bucky of the definition of hakuna matata, “missed you.”

His lips on hers after a week away from them are like heaven. He breaks away much sooner than either of them would like and steps into the baby’s room.

Liam’s cries turn instantly to happy gibberish, and Steve reappears a few seconds later with the blond-haired one-year-old.

“My girls,” Bucky says with feeling, leaving one arm around Kayla’s little shoulders and sliding the other around Darcy’s waist.

“Hey you,” Darcy says with a tired smile, and gives him a kiss. It’s short and sweet, but with the promise of more. She just hopes she can stay awake for the ‘more.’

They all head back down the hall, and Darcy knows she should be saying things, asking how their mission went and whatnot, but both men are occupied with the children and Darcy’s frazzled brain isn’t up for much more than essential conversation.

They reach the den and Darcy sees the disaster zone before her with fresh eyes: toys and children’s books littering almost every inch of the floor, a basket of clean laundry strewn across the couch, at least three different types of crumbs on the coffee table and, for reasons Darcy could never hope to fathom, an egg whisk put carefully to bed with a dish towel for a blanket and a remote control for a pillow.

“Have you guys eaten yet?” Steve asks as Liam points and exclaims repeatedly at the star on his uniform.

“I was going to make lasagna...” Darcy starts, and for some reason _that_ is the tipping point. Whether from relief or exhaustion or a combination of both, her eyes suddenly fill with tears. She’s too busy wiping them away and being horrified with herself to catch the silent communication that Steve and Bucky exchange, but she assumes they must because Steve suddenly says, “Okay, bath time!”

He scoops a cheering Kayla up in his free arm and carries both children off to the bathroom.

“She never does that for me,” Darcy mutters grumpily. Bucky chuckles gently as he enfolds her in both arms.

“Spent every night this week fighting me tooth and nail,” she sniffs.

“That’s our little spitfire.” He guides her to the couch and sweeps the laundry out of the way without a word. He doesn’t comment on the mess, because he genuinely doesn’t care, and because she’d have some choice words for him if he did.

He strips off the bulky jacket of his uniform and quickly kicks off his boots, leaving him in just a black undershirt and pants, then draws her down onto the couch for a snuggle. She presses herself to his chest and rests her head on his shoulder, soaking in the contact she’s been missing. He smells a little sweaty but she doesn’t mind.

“Anything you want to get off your chest, dollface?” he asks.

“Nah,” she says, rubbing her hand across her eyes one last time. Part of her wants to keep venting, to list every single irritating thing that’s happened since they left, every moment a child did something utterly ridiculous and incredibly infuriating—and he’d listen, too, Bucky is really good at being sympathetic—but the rest of her can’t be bothered, and instead she just sits in silence being soothed by the motion of Bucky’s hands sliding up and down her back and feeling supremely grateful that her boys are home.

When he presses a kiss to her hair, she lifts her head to chase after his lips. It’s easy to forget that skin has a taste. There’s nothing like a reunion with your lover’s lips to remind you of it.

Each gentle kiss flows into the next, and when Bucky’s hands slide under the hem of her singlet top it’s only to feel closer to her, not to angle for more. Her hands copy his, fingers sliding over the firm muscles beneath his shirt and reminding her of just how lucky she is.

“You know I love your lasagne,” Bucky says after a bit, “but what do you say we order out tonight?”

Darcy nods against his neck. “Mm-hmph.”

Bucky fishes his cell out of his pocket. “Chinese?”

“Mm-hmph,” she says again, because it has less syllables than, “I literally couldn’t care less. As long as I don’t have to cook it, I’m on board.”

Darcy closes her eyes and snuggles against him, listening to the pleasant rumble of his voice through his chest as he orders their dinner, and the more distant sounds of splashes and joyful shrieks coming from the bathroom.

* * *

A few hours later and Steve is just finishing up Darcy’s full-body massage when Bucky comes into the bedroom.

“They’re both asleep,” Bucky says, shucking his pjs and sliding into bed beside her. Steve runs his thumbs over the sole of Darcy’s foot one last time and lies down on the other side of her.

Darcy turns on her side, pressing her forehead to Steve’s and reaching a hand back to rest on Bucky’s hip. Her skin is singing from Steve’s massage and she hums with contentment at having her boys so naked and so close.

“So what do you say, darlin’?” Bucky asks in between shoulder kisses. “You up for some welcome home fooling around, or should Steve and I just take care of ourselves?”

“Don’t know,” Darcy moans into the pillow, genuinely torn. “Want you guys, but also want sleep.”

“Okay,” Bucky says decisively, like she gave him an answer that was something other than completely unhelpful. “Quick and dirty it is, then.”

Like a well oiled machine, Bucky moves down the bed as Steve eases her onto her back. Her “hmm?” of mild confusion is lost in Steve’s mouth and she gives in to the delightfully disorientating sensation of two mouths on her at once as Bucky trails kisses down her stomach and settles between her legs.

He drags his fingertips lightly up and down her thighs as his mouth moves ever closer to his goal, not rushing, but certainly not wasting any time.

Steve’s fingers find her nipple at the same moment Bucky’s tongue finds her clit, and what else can Darcy do but moan. Her whole body is alight with desire, but her mind is still shrouded in the beginnings of sleep, making everything feel almost dreamlike.

They play her like an instrument, giving her everything she likes just the way she likes it. Bucky slides two fingers deep inside her as Steve kisses her breasts in that teasing way he has that drives her wild. Maybe she’s bucking her hips, she’s not sure, but she’s getting close.

“Steve, hands,” says Bucky.

Steve gathers her wrists together over her head and pins them there with one large hand, and god damn it, these men know her too well. They’re driving her relentlessly towards orgasm with their hands and their mouths, and she doesn’t know if she’ll be able to keep quiet when she comes.

Fortunately they’ve thought of this too, and just before she comes Steve clamps his mouth over hers, muffling her cry of ecstasy.

“Jesus Christ, I missed you guys,” she gasps when she’s able to.

“Missed you, too, Darce,” Steve murmurs after a couple more gentle kisses.

Bucky kisses each of her hipbones like a farewell then moves over to Steve’s side of the bed, the damp head of his erection lightly brushing her thigh as he goes.

She rolls away onto her stomach to give them more room. She sinks into the mattress, boneless and sated and utterly content.

She can already hear the shifting sounds of Buck grinding against Steve when Steve asks, “Do you want us to go into the spare room?”

Darcy can practically feel the cloud of slumber shrouding her. “Nope, ‘m already asleep. Do what you like.”

And as Darcy gives in to blissful, much-needed sleep, she is warmed by the knowledge that if one of the children wake up during the night, she won’t be on her own.


End file.
